


do not stand at my grave and weep

by discranola



Category: Spark the Electric Jester (Video Games), Мор. Утопия | Pathologic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack Treated Seriously, Crossover, Kinda, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Resurrection, i guess?, spark/fark if you squint
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22570891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discranola/pseuds/discranola
Summary: do not stand at my grave and cryi am not there; i did not die-incredibly self-indulgent makes-no-sense crossover of two of my special interests, both INCREDIBLY different in tone
Kudos: 5





	do not stand at my grave and weep

**Author's Note:**

> hey!!!  
> to anyone from the spark gc reading this: i hope you dont mind how self-indulgent and weird this crossover is, and it probably wont make a lot of sense.  
> to anyone just from the pathologic fandom who clicked on this: i'm so sorry.
> 
> ive left explanations for some lore/terms for BOTH of y'all in the end note, there cos they have spoilers for both games and i know some of you prob want to avoid that. also, ive finished both spark 1 and 2 but haven't finished pathologic 1 or 2, and i dont own marbles nest yet. i hope y'all can put up with whatever mistakes im making. have fun with what ive written so far!

Day One,  
In which the simulacrum finds himself in a most ill-fated city.

Fark double-checked his bags, and double-checked them twice again. He would be leaving Flower Mountain, Lua, for a whole _month_ , a time which was already one-third of his entire lifespan. He was noticeably nervous, his fans blasting overtime to cool down his servos. His first vacation. 

Spark had returned from his own personal vacation, funded by the good doctor, fumbling and apologizing to his robotic copy for not taking him. He had said that while the trip was over-all enjoyable, the entire time he missed the company of someone he could really talk to like another person, and not be hailed as the Formie that had taken Freom down.

Fark had taken down Freom for good, of course. The media just didn’t want to focus on what Spark, after some embarrassment, insisted was the truth. 

The truth was, Fark has missed his Formie confidante as well. Terribly so. Although he wouldn’t voice this fact, he was too nervous for that. So he was even more nervous (and flattered) when Spark said he still had a good deal of leftover credits from Doctor Armstrong, and wanted to go on another vacation, with him, cross-planetary this time.

Even with a weeks notice, Fark still found himself packing/panicking at the last second. He sighed. ‘ _Typical._ ’ He checked once more, before locking his suitcases for good and checking his timer. ‘ _Just on time_.’

Roughly a second later, the GPA heard a knocking at his bedroom door, before the Formie decided to open it anyway. “You done? If we leave in five minutes the shuttle should be just in time to pick us up.”

“Yep. Are you?” Fark nodded and couldn’t help himself from relaxing a little at Spark’s laugh. 

“Of course I am. Unlike _someone_ , I finished packing three days ago. C’mon, let’s get going.” He gave Fark a friendly pat as the two prepared to set up their suitcases in the back of an old convertible. 

-

He blinked, then flexed his jaw, then his hand, then his legs. Everything, everything except that shortcoming of an eye, was working completely fine. He did a quick scan of his systems for good measure. Nothing irregular apart from the usual, the jumbled mess he’d been used to for years now.

Double didn’t understand. He was supposed to be dead.

He closed his working eye in thought and assessed his situation. The last thing he remembered was that dismal night in Technoria City, the rain pouring as he stood and waited for the show to begin. The cowardly jester model showed up and tested his patience, before the one he was _really_ waiting for showed up.

...Freom’s son? That was certainly a shock to him, even if he didn’t show it. A more untainted version of him came to light for a moment. Freom had hired a hit on his own son? He’d willingly let a group of defects commit filicide for him so he wouldn’t have to get his hands dirtied? Then he came back to his senses and thought of how the robot tyrant had done worse. He didn’t succeed, anyway. 

Freom had already taken what scrap of freedom he had earned away from him, the kind he’d spent years, _decades_ earning from fear and respect from the Formies. He had just barely escaped his enslavement, only for him to be bound with chains again. It made him feel sick.

So, he’d fight Freom’s son. He would give it his all, even as each blow gave him more errors, and the rain rusted the unsealed cracks on his armour. If the jester died, Freom’s plan would go on, and he would be forced into servitude again. If he died, Freom’s heir would have a chance to reject his title, break free from his chains and free robot-kind from a traitor.

When he fell onto the cold surface of the helipad for the last time, he felt a peace he hadn’t felt in a very long time. 

And now, he was back. His fist clenched in rage. Hadn’t he gone through enough? Had someone rebuilt him just so he could go through it all again? He just wanted to enjoy rest, no matter how eternal it was.

“Well, well, well. The desperado is awake.”

Double’s eye shot open, and he willed his body to get into a combat-ready stance. He had been caught off-guard, but whoever dared to taunt him hadn’t attacked yet. He was lucky.

The…. thing in front of him was unlike any GPA he had seen before. It was a matted black colour, bordering on grey like an old blanket left in the sun for too long. Its head was a chalky white, almost looking like bones as it loomed over him. The eyes seemed to glow yellow, even in the daylight. It had an avian-like facial structure, resembling lifeforms on Earth and some models of GPA. Littered across its body were bone-like pendants that clinked and swayed in the wind. 

Double’s hand reflexively reached for one of his swords, which luckily was not far from him. “And _you_ are?” He scowled, waiting to see what the stranger would do. 

The avian head tilted to the side. “Ah, just a messenger in sorrowful times. Pleased to make your acquaintance, of course. I hear you have quite the frightful reputation.”

Double lowered his sword just somewhat, seeing the creature had yet to make any sort of threatening movement. “You would be right.”

“Of course, of course!” It crowed. “Well, let us not waste time now that you are awake. Time is of the essence in a situation like this.”

Double sighed. He hated the holier-than-thou wordily types. They would go on and on for _hours_ about their ideals and plans. He found a quick sword-slash could usually sum up hours of concepts in a few good seconds. He had yet to see this figure reach for a weapon - did it even have arms? - and it seemed very content with speaking, rather than moving. 

“We don’t have to read your thoughts to know what you are thinking, vagabond. You are not the first person to be annoyed by us, but soon you will find our advice is invaluable in the situation you are about to face.” The messenger started to pace, seemingly getting caught in its own monologing. “Soon you and a small group of individuals will experience a challenge unlike any you have faced before. It’s not guaranteed that all of you will make it through unscathed, but that is a risk we are willing to take. 

You will find yourself in an area both of us call ‘Earth’, facing yet more misfortunes and mistakes from your creators. Many will suffer, but you and this unique group will come to terms with each other to remain triumphant.” It chuckled. “This idea has been recycled before, but we could not help ourselves. It is simply a classic, even when it doesn’t work as we hope.”

“You’re talking about this prophecy of yours as if I’m going to fulfil it,” Double couldn’t help but tilt his head to the side to match the masked creature, “are you so sure? I haven’t needed to go to Earth, why would I now?” 

The stranger crowed again. “Some actions in this world are not for us to decide, friend. You will find yourself willed there, some way or another. Sooner than you think, too.”

Double, already tired of the creatures blabbering, was ready to walk away before it paused its talking and looked up at the sun. “Ah, but I’ve already wasted some of your precious time. You need to prepare after your rest, after all. I’ll be waiting for you there.” It bowed respectfully before it started to shamble away.

It turned back, and Double felt as if it was staring into his very soul. “When we meet again, we’ll exchange formalities. For now, though, you will know me as Beak.”

Double blinked, and it was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading through this! (or skipping to the term explanations, i cant blame you) 
> 
> pathologic explanations: yes, everyone talks that much in the games. its fun to read but writing it was an absolute nightmare and im afraid beak is gonna become a recurring character. for beak himself, he shows up at the start of pathologic 2 alongside his friend, talon. i believe its implied theyre both personas of the plague itself?? forgive me if im wrong. i chose beak over talon because talon seemed a lot ruder >:( he straight up tells you youre gonna die instantly
> 
> also, all of sparks story takes place on the moon (and around it), but theyre gonna have to go to earth cos thats where the plague is lmao. its a good excuse to make up stuff about the spark worlds earth.
> 
> spark explanations:  
> formies are an alien race of... ant(?) people? that showed up hundreds of years after humans abandoned earth, and took up residence on the earth n moon. lua is one of the names they have for the moon, flower mountain is one of the cities there (shortened to fm city in game).  
> formies created gpas (general purpose ais) which are just a fancy name for robots. spark and dr armstrong are formies. fark and double are gpas.  
> freom was a gpa that put most of the other gpas under his control with a virus, and obv that pissed double off because he'd spent decades (well, 2 decades or so) breaking free from formie control (since they mostly see gpas as objects and pets).  
> freom made fark, his son, to carry on his data since he was an outdated model and considered himself weak. fark said "no, actually" and killed freom instead of taking his place cus freom sucked and was a bad dad.  
> ...also freom modelled his son after spark to not attract attention by making him look like him?? and jesters are a staple of formie culture??? honestly theres too much to explain so if you're really curious sparktej has a wiki which i totally dont mod and this isnt a plug
> 
> i'm so sorry pathologic peeps


End file.
